The man continued writing as Taryn slipped forward, apparently unnoticed, both wanting him to look up and keep his eyes diverted, she needed no more complications on her vacation. Still, something pulled her towards him, something that reminded her all too much of that which pulled her into the fish shop the day before, that propelled her to say yes to having lunch with Dylan.
Straightening when he set the journal on the table, she gasped softly at the look of it. Yes, she'd suspected it was the same type of journal, but it was exactly the same, naught for the Greek lettering on the front. Exactly the same.
Even as he rested his head in her hands, Taryn knew she couldn't just walk away from him, she couldn't just pretend she'd never seen him and that his presence meant nothing. She needed to figure out where he'd got that journal, how she might have come across such a similar one...
Maybe he was staying at the hotel? And it was some sort of guest-book for, y'know, people who stayed in each room. That would've made sense, would it not?
“Excuse me, sir?” She queried, taking a step around the table so that she might get closer to him, wishing for him to look up, to notice her as she had noticed him. “Where did you get that?” She gestured towards the journal.